


Instinct

by avoidingavoidance



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Comfort, Groping, M/M, Making Out, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidingavoidance/pseuds/avoidingavoidance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean refuses to let Marco deal with his shit on his own. It's not fair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> Set in canonverse.
> 
> "There is no plot." -Neo

Jean is not one of those people who functions wholly on gut instinct. He occasionally finds that his body moves without his input, but only when his mind struggles with a decision and the time for action is running low. 

Sometimes the choices his gut makes surprise people. He is not excluded from this sensation.

This is one of those times.

How could he have possibly avoided it, though? Marco’s been holding back for so long, always acting as the great regulator. He puts the needs and fears and desires of everyone else before his own. Jean swears Marco considers his whole day a failure if he leaves a room without making someone there feel like the world is actually a good place.

So when Marco finally shows the tiniest crack in his smile, when Jean walks in on him hastily wiping his eyes in a storage closet, eyes rimmed red, it’s not hard for the blonde to barge in and lock them in together. Marco hasn’t changed out of his uniform yet—how long has he been in here?

“Jean, what—“

“Spill.”

Marco stares. Jean stares back. He swears he can _see_ the conflict on Marco’s face; his freckles tinged a slight pink, dark eyes wide, taking in Jean’s “I’m incredibly serious and also holding you hostage” demeanor. 

He opts for a lie. Like that’ll get him out of this closet.

“Mm? It’s pretty dusty in here, that’s all. I was sneezing pretty hard.”

“I dusted in here last week. Punishment for rocking Eren in the face.”

Marco looks Jean in the eyes again. His eyes have a habit of wandering when he’s lying. 

Another lie.

“I must just be sensitive.”

“Marco.” Jean sighs, watching the brunette fidget uncomfortably. “Don’t do this.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t lie to me.” Jean pushes off the door and crosses the small closet, crowding Marco against a shelf. “You don’t have to hide this from me. Let me help you, for once.”

Marco’s cheeks flush darker, and his eyes drop to somewhere around Jean’s chest. They’re unmistakably filling with tears, though. He reaches up and grasps at Jean’s shirt, chewing on his lip while he apparently decides whether or not he’s going to talk.

They stand like this for what feels like forever, Jean boxing Marco in with his hands on the shelves around him. He can’t help but feel like the brunette, just an inch or so taller than him, looks so small leaning against the shelves like this. 

Just as a tear finally escapes Marco’s eye, he squeezes his eyes shut and they fall down his freckled cheeks like a cascade. Jean didn’t expect this to break his heart as much as it does. The trembling fingers fisted in his shirt tug almost imperceptibly, but it’s more than enough to coerce Jean into pulling Marco tight against his chest. 

“I just—“ Marco stutters, interrupted by a slight hitch in his breath that almost kills Jean. He wraps Marco tighter in his embrace, pressing his cheek against the other’s shoulder. “I’m really scared. This whole thing… it’s… I just don’t know. There’s so much uncertainty and I feel like I don’t have my feet on solid ground and every day is just a big mess of ‘I don’t know.’” Marco shakes in Jean’s arms for a moment before wrapping his arms around his friend’s back and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He’ll likely apologize profusely later for wrinkling it, but right now it’s the most solidarity he’s had in far too long and it’s too hard to let go.

Jean’s struggling internally. He wants to hold Marco tighter (but then he’d probably be unable to breathe) and he wants to whisper soothing words into his ear (but what the actual fuck could he possibly say?) and he wants kiss those tears off Marco’s sweet cheeks, kiss them away from his long eyelashes, kiss his flushed lips until that huge, carefree smile is back where it belongs, and radiating happiness genuine enough to blind the whole corps (but where the fuck did this come from?). 

Marco’s chest hitches with a small sob and Jean realizes that he’s still holding the brunette tight, almost too tight, and he’s doing absolutely nothing to stem the tide of Marco’s fear. But what can he do? None of his immediate thoughts seem possible. Especially not the kissing thing. Because Jean Likes Girls. That’s all there is to it.

But he’s also standing in a storage closet, trying as hard as he can to press every part of Marco against himself and still not feeling close enough. So there’s something to be said for that.

His eyes flutter open and his heart drops a little bit. Damn, he’d deliberated too long again, trapped between his emotions and his sexuality. Absolutely a rock and a hard place. Right.

Wide, impossibly huge brown eyes stare back into his from uncomfortably close, and Jean realizes that he’s kissing Marco. Marco Bodt. The dude from the bunk above him. And he is distinctly unperturbed by this.

Shit.

Well, nothing else to be done. Jean closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss, and Marco (bless his soul) gives a small sound and lets Jean do whatever he wants.

Jean pulls back to suck in a breath and leans his forehead against Marco’s. “Sorry,” he breathes, voice pitched low and raspy. The brunette shivers, still trapped in Jean’s warm embrace.

“It’s… okay,” Marco replies. His breath hitches again. “Jean…”

Jean has already begun nuzzling and kissing tears off of Marco’s beautiful freckled face. “Mm?”

Marco sighs and allows the blonde to do as he pleases, fingers still grasping at his shirt. “Jean,” he repeats.

“Mm,” Jean repeats. He presses his lips to Marco’s again, licking gently against the brunette’s closed lips. He feels the other freeze slightly against him, and sucks Marco’s bottom lip between his. Marco shivers again as Jean nibbles at his lip, mouth opening slightly to allow a soft moan to escape. 

“I’ve never…” Marco starts, rescuing his now red lip from Jean’s worrying teeth. “I never had the chance to…”

“That’s okay,” Jean says, staring deep into Marco’s darkening eyes. He’s sure his own eyes betray the heat he’s feeling. “Me either.”

“Then what… do we…?”

“Whatever we want.”

Marco’s eyes water again, and he worries his lip between his teeth, stress creeping back into his beautiful features. 

“Marco,” Jean sighs, pressing small kisses to every freckle he can find, “we do whatever we want. Leave fear for the fight.” He pins Marco with stern, golden eyes, trying not to fuck up his words. He’s not great with sentences sometimes. “When you’re with me, forget about it. But don’t forget that you have a life.”

Marco sobs a little, tears falling down his cheeks again, but he nods and kisses Jean again. It feels too good not to, especially when Jean’s holding him so tight he almost forgets that the world outside of this room may literally be trying to kill him. Jean melts against Marco, hands sliding under the brunette’s arms to pull at his tucked-in shirt, grab at his ass, run his nails lightly over tan, freckled skin, _anything_ to just get closer. 

Their kiss moves from comforting to exploratory to outright passionate, Jean seeming like he’s trying to steal Marco’s breath right from his lungs. They moan slightly into each other’s mouths, tongues tangling and exploring, hands all over each other.

“Mm, Jean,” Marco manages.

“Mm?” Jean takes the opportunity to suck and nibble at the brunette’s earlobe. Marco lets out a low moan, grabbing Jean’s hips with shaking fingers.

“Jean, ah… the shelf, it’s a little— _ahh_ …”

The blonde looks up from the great hickey he’s giving Marco. He sneaks a look around, but finds nowhere good to put his friend while he ravages the hell of out him. Going back to the barrack is absolutely out of the question; everyone’ll be done dinner soon. 

Jean suddenly has an absolutely _wicked_ idea. The grin spreading over his face worries Marco almost as much as it turns him on.

“Dinner’s almost over.”

“Yeah?” Marco blinks, trying to think around his half-hard cock.

“Think anyone comes through after dinner’s done?”

“Oh _god_ , Jean, no way—“

“Then where?” Jean licks a stripe up Marco’s neck, nipping playfully at the sharp angle of his jaw. “That sack of potatoes? It’s pretty lumpy.”

Marco attempts to gather his thoughts, fails, and grumbles, pinching Jean’s ass in retaliation. “I… fine.”

Jeans grins again, planting another messy kiss against Marco’s lips before he goes to the door of the storage room, peeking out into the dining hall. It’s empty, and the torches have been put out, but they’re still smoking a fair bit. How long had they been in the closet together? “What d’you think?” 

“I think this is insane.”

Jean grabs the brunette’s hand and leads him cautiously to the least-visible table in the hall, peering in the kitchen just to be sure. He wishes suddenly that the mess hall had curtains over its windows. Regardless, he pushes Marco onto the table and crawls over him, pressing against him again as he kisses him deeply. Fuck, he’s glad this isn’t a dream.

His fingers work at Marco’s shirt, wanting to see more of that soft, freckled skin, wanting to feel more of his friend. The brunette lets his head fall back against the table, leaning into the kiss with a soft moan. He almost regrets the relocation; he can’t grab and pull as strongly as when he had Jean pressed up against him in the storage closet. 

They scoot up the table so Marco’s long legs aren’t hanging off so awkwardly. Jean presses hot kisses to newly-exposed flesh, leaving bright red kiss marks as he goes by. Marco gasps and runs his fingers through Jean’s hair. “What’re you…”

Jean flashes Marco a heated look. “Is it okay?”

Marco squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, moaning long and low when Jean runs his tongue from his belly button to his breastbone, the movement slow and teasing. “Yeah,” he manages to rasp, opening his eyes to meet Jean’s again. “Yeah, god… it’s fine.”

The blonde grins as he flicks his tongue against one of Marco’s nipples, and that expression is _ridiculously_ hot. Marco’s pants are way too damn tight, having gone from half-mast to painfully hard in too short a time. 

Jean’s hands are tracing patterns in Marco’s freckles as they trail down the brunette’s tight body, fingers lingering on small bruises and pressure lines from the 3DM gear. Shit’s rough; at least he’d managed to get out of the harness before... hiding. Jean shifts a hand between them to press his palm against Marco’s hardness, trying not to edge off the table as his heated kisses move south. Marco arches his back and leans his head back, eyes squeezed shut and teeth worrying his lip again. “Jean,” he breathes, fingers returning to the blonde’s already-mussed hair. “Jean,” he repeats, a little more insistently.

Jean looks up from where he’s dipping his tongue under the waistband of Marco’s trousers, his non-groping hand moving to completely untuck the brunette’s shirt. 

“A-ahh,” Marco manages, train of thought completely derailed by the sight of that. Because holy shit, Jean’s tongue is ridiculous. “I-I…”

Jean chuckles, leaning up to kiss Marco deeply once more, unable to keep himself from drinking down those hoarse moans. _God_ , Marco’s sexy like this. He moves a thigh between the brunette’s and rubs against him, eagerly swallowing the gasping whine his friend lets out. Jean lets his aching cock grind against Marco. He wants the brunette to know how incredibly turned on he is, too. To let him know he’s not alone.

“ _J-Jean_ ,” Marco gasps, fingers pulling out Jean’s shirt before digging his nails into pale hips. “I wanna… nmph,” he groans. He lets Jean kiss him senseless, the two of them grinding together for a moment before Marco pulls away to give a shuddering sigh. He ruts his hips up against Jean and the blonde moans, eyes slipping closed as he rubs back, unable to resist the delicious contact against his aching hardness. Marco manhandles Jean for a moment and pushes him up enough to clumsily rip open the blonde’s pants and shove them down, making quick work of his own the same way. The slight freedom makes them both sigh. It’s a step up, at least.

Jean looks between them, biting his lip at the sight of Marco’s dick straining against his boxers. The brunette drinks in the sight as well before roughly rearranging Jean again to allow their cocks to rub together. _Fuck_ , it feels good… Marco sighs and grinds up against Jean, who lets him have control for a moment while he moans and thrusts back against his friend. The brunette chuckles and leans up to nip at Jean’s neck. He’s unexpectedly noisy. Not that he can blame Jean; the contact feels amazing, so much better than rushed orgasms in the shower. 

He gives a disappointed moan when Jean slides away; he’d really been getting into it, hands grabbing Jean’s ass and dragging him closer. “Jean, what—“

“’M gonna make you feel good, Freckleface,” Jean says, his confident grin spreading back over his flushed face. He resumes his path down Marco’s chest, licking and kissing and nipping at the multitude of freckles spread across his torso.

“Ah, Jean, wait—“

Gold eyes, dark with want, pierce right through Marco. “Is… is this okay?” Marco feels a distinct déjà vu. 

“Jean, this is all okay. I just—mmh, hey, let me get a sentence out,” Marco pleads. He feels like Jean is driving him crazy on purpose, trying to distract him.

“Mm, what?” Jean smirks as he palms Marco’s excruciatingly hard dick through his boxers. Marco flushes even darker and rolls his hips into the contact, licking his lips and gasping. “What’s up, Marco?”

The way his name rolls off Jean’s lips is almost enough to make him lose control. “God, Jean,” he moans, chewing on a knuckle for a moment. “I wanna—ah, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Jean raises his eyebrows, then flushes. His cock twitches, getting impossibly harder at the idea.

“Well, uh,” he starts, sitting up and reaching down with his free hand to cup his own arousal. “I… hmm.”

“What?” Marco reaches down to graze his fingers over what he can reach of Jean’s hips, pupils blown out with arousal. The way Marco looks makes Jean lick his lips again; dark eyes, flushed face, bare freckled chest, hard cock leaking precome into his boxers… _damn_ ¸ Jean just wants to do everything to Marco, over and over. 

“’M gonna suck your dick,” he manages to breathe out, biting his flushed lips. He’s sure he looks similarly disheveled, based on how Marco’s dark eyes are raking up and down his body. Jean’s confident, but not that confident. He’s clearly never done anything like this before, let alone with a guy. All he knows is the shit he hears from older guys, and he’s never really heard useful advice on mutual dick-sucking. 

Marco’s determined nod and the way he rolls his hips up against Jean’s palm breaks the blonde out of his introspection. “Yeah, let’s, ah… let’s do that.”

“Uh,” Jean replies eloquently.

Marco pulls Jean back down and kisses him breathless, doing his best to push his friend’s pants down past his knees. “I think I got this,” he pants into Jean’s mouth. 

“Oh yeah?” Jean moans as Marco frees his cock, pushing his boxers down as much as he can. He stops palming at Marco’s arousal to reach inside the other’s boxers and pull it out, flicking his eyes down between them to stare at it. He’d never thought he’d find another guy’s dick appealing, but _god_ Marco’s is, the head slick with precome and so hard it seems like it’s quivering. He looked back up at the brunette and kisses him deeply, fucking his tongue into Marco’s mouth and once again drinking down that amazing sound the brunette makes, that keening whine. He pulls away and slurs, “What d’you got?” 

Marco licks his lips and grins, his flush spreading onto his chest. “Here, bear with me,” he says as he reaches around to grab one of Jean’s thighs, tugging it toward him, gently pushing at the blonde’s hips with his other hand. Jean focuses for the moment on following Marco’s gesturing until he manages to find himself straddling the brunette’s face. He blushes as Marco arranges them, tugging at Jean’s pants and pushing at his shirt so that Jean can spread his legs wide enough. He flushes darker when his friend tugs on his hips and his hard, slick cock presses right against Marco’s face, making an absolutely obscene picture. Jean swallows hard, watching the brunette’s lecherous grin as he nuzzles the hard flesh now resting on his face. “Yeah, this is good, I think,” Marco chuckles.

“F-fuck,” Jean breathes, eyes wide as he stares down between his legs. 

“Wait, no,” Marco frowns. “Jean, shirt. Off.”

Marco’s breathy commands are getting ballsier, Jean notes as he sits up straight and tugs his wrinkled shirt off, tossing it… somewhere. He looks down again and groans. Marco looks hot as _hell_ with Jean’s dick just hanging out on his face, and he has half a mind to ask if this is really okay until the brunette’s tongue slips out and licks a hot stripe up the hard flesh in front of him. 

“Fuuuuck,” Jean breathes, reaching down to trace his fingers along Marco’s jaw. “That looks… insane,” he finishes meekly. Marco chuckles and rolls his hips a little, reminding Jean of the promise he’d made earlier. Jean takes a moment to stare at Marco’s hard cock, licking his lips before leaning back down onto his elbows to do a little friendly nuzzling of his own. 

Having Jean’s cock in a more accommodating position now, Marco leans up and shyly licks around the soaked head of Jean’s arousal. This is about the point where he isn’t sure anymore exactly what he’s supposed to do, but the blonde’s shuddering moans breathing hot against his own dick let him know he’s on the right track. His hands travel up Jean’s thighs, over his hips, dragging his nails along his sides as he laps at the aching flesh pressing against his lips. 

Jean is almost too distracted by this to hold up his end of the bargain; clearly this is going to take a little more focus than he’d initially thought. “Fuck, Marco…” He clears his mind of the fog Marco’s tongue is filling him with and tries to remember anything he’d ever overhead about this. Damn his inexperience. 

He looks at Marco’s cock and mimics the brunette’s actions. His friend tastes good; just barely salty, precome sliding easily over his tongue as he makes circles around the head. Finally he closes his lips around the brunette’s cock and sucks him in, closing his eyes and allowing a small moan to escape through his nose.

Marco moans loudly, letting his head drop onto the table and arching his back. That feels _amazing_. More than he could have ever imagined. Jean’s mouth is hot and wet and _god_ his tongue is still making circles around the head. The blonde’s hand hesitantly comes up to stroke what isn’t in his mouth; the other hand slides under Marco’s thigh and holds him in place. “God, Jean… nnh, that’s…”

Jean’s small moan in return reminds Marco of the task at hand. How he could have avoided it with it literally under his nose, he has no idea. Marco runs his nails down Jean’s sides to his hips and pulls him down slightly. He copies Jean’s actions and sucks the blonde’s cock between his lips, moving his hands to grab hungrily at Jean’s ass. He discovers quickly, though, that the bobbing motion giving him so many chills makes his neck ache from this angle. Marco leans his head back against the table and settles for using his hands to guide Jean into a gentle thrusting motion. 

Jean almost chokes around Marco’s cock as his eyes squeeze shut. He tries so hard to not just blow right then at the feeling of thrusting lightly into Marco’s mouth. He pulls off Marco’s dick, taking a moment to just stroke him. “God, fuck, Marco… I’m not gonna last if I… nngh,” Jean stutters, trying as hard as he can to control his thrusts, not wanting to gag Marco with his cock. As much as he actually does want to.

Marco’s fingers squeeze encouragingly at Jean’s thighs, sucking enticingly at the flesh thrusting slowly in and out of his mouth. The cooling saliva on his own arousal is somewhat maddening, however, and he gives a small, encouraging moan along with a slight arch of his hips to remind Jean of his need. He groans deep in his throat as Jean’s mouth returns to what it was doing. The blonde bobs his head along Marco’s cock, hand still stroking in time to make up for not quite being able to take the whole thing. He bobs just past his comfort level every time, though, moaning as best he can, still trying to keep the movements of his hips as forgiving as possible.

Jean’s mind is kind of blown by this situation. His hips grow shaky and uneven in his thrusts, still sucking as best he can along Marco’s cock. Is this supposed to feel this good? Jean swears he could spend the rest of his life like this and not be upset about it. The hand wrapped around Marco’s thigh holds it tighter, fingers twitching. 

Marco’s wriggling under him, the moans vibrating around his cock growing more and more frequent. The brunette’s fingers dig into Jean’s thighs, shaking and twitching as he clearly tries to keep from rolling his hips into the warmth of his friend’s mouth. He’s not sure how to let Jean know that he’s getting close, so close, he just needs—just a little bit more…

Jean pulls off for a moment and gasps, breathing hot and heavy along Marco’s slick arousal. He mouths along the shaft for a moment, light moans escaping his throat. “Marco,” he murmurs, lips brushing along the side of Marco’s cock. “Marco, Marco, I’m right there… lemme pull out…”

He tries to lift his hips away from the brunette’s face so he can come on his chest or something, but Marco’s shaking hands trap him there and guide him back into his thrusting rhythm that he’d tried so hard to control this whole time. Jean leans his head back with a deep, loud moan, unable to keep his hips from speeding a little in their shallow thrusting. The wet heat around his dick is too much, too inviting, and he returns to bobbing and sucking and tonguing Marco’s arousal in return, sucking deeper and harder than before and _fuck_ Marco’s about to absolutely lose his mind, eyes almost crossing before squeezing closed because he’s so _fucking close_ and—

Jean whimpers and drags his nails along the inside of Marco’s thigh and the brunette cannot help but buck his hips and arch his back and swallow Jean’s dick as he comes _explosively_ into the blonde’s mouth. Jean’s thrusting faster, shaking above him, muffled whimpers becoming loud cries of Marco’s name when he releases the brunette from his mouth, inadvertently dribbling come down his chin and onto Marco’s still-hard cock. Jean shakes, thighs tensing as he rides out his orgasm, the brunette swallowing everything that Jean has to give him. His own mind is still hazy from his orgasm, too frazzled to worry about gagging as he swallows. He sucks until he’s sure there’s nothing left, then releases his death grip on Jean’s ass.

Marco gasps and squirms as Jean returns the favor, giving his cock a firm stroke and lapping at the drop of come that comes out. He runs his finger through the come he’d dripped onto Marco and pops that into his mouth as well, swallowing easily despite the slightly bitter taste. With a groan, Jean climbs off of Marco and sits at the bench beside the table, leaning heavily against the ancient wood. “Shit,” he sighs contentedly, running his hand through his hair. 

Blinking owlishly at his friend, Marco smiles and leans over to lick a dribble of his own come off of Jean’s chin. "Missed some,” he says, licking his lips and enjoying their mixed tastes. Jean groans and grabs Marco’s head, bringing him in for a sated, possessive kiss. 

“Damn, Marco,” Jean sighs, leaning his forehead against the brunette’s.

“Can I come down there too?” Marco giggles. “I kinda feel like dinner.”

Jean laughs. “No way, you’re definitely dinner.”

Marco rolls his eyes and moves to sit next to Jean, leaning heavily against his side.

“Hey, Marco?”

“Yeah?”

Jean laces his fingers with Marco’s. “I, uh…” He flushes again, out of embarrassment this time, and turns away from the brunette. “I like you.”

Marco laughs, soft and comforting. Jean shivers. “I’d hope so. I like you too, Jean.”

The blonde peeks back at Marco out of the corner of his eye, watching that big dumb smile spread back across his face. He tries to organize his thoughts, but that smile just fills his stomach with butterflies and robs him of coherent thought. 

“Just, uh,” he starts lamely, hiding his mouth in his hand and looking away again. “Next time… you’re feeling like that…” Marco tenses next to him. Oh, yeah. Jean steels himself and gives embarrassment a big old mental ‘fuck-you.’ “Next time, tell me. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide that shit. You walk all of us through this every single day. Don’t feel like you can’t rely on anyone like we rely on you.” Surprisingly eloquent, he thinks.

Marco stares, blushing a little, before his eyes soften and his lips widen into a smile again. “Okay, Jean.” He pauses. “Thanks.”

Jean blushes again, staring at the ceiling. They hold hands and sit comfortably for a while before making themselves decent and returning to the barracks. They climb quietly into Marco’s bunk and fall asleep holding each other tightly, without a care as to who might find them in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> i-i-i
> 
> don't look at me. I just wrote ten pages of straight porn, don't look at me


End file.
